50 Shades of Springguard
by KuraiFriendku
Summary: Springtrap x FNaF 3 guard, a.k.a. Purple Guy x FNaF 3 guard (who is labeled as an OC since FanFiction has no other character listing for him). 50 drabbles of Springguard: Chapter 8 - #23 ("Wallet") Cuwte yaoi, no lemon.
1. 1-6

**Woo! So I know this isn't "I Have a Glass Jaw" or "Welcome to Freddy's" (the human AU), but I've had this in my Google Drive for absolutely ever -.- Finally decided there's no way I'm making all 50 words in one post, so here we are.**

 **First of all, very important, NONE OF THESE TAKE PLACE IN THE SAME UNIVERSE UNLESS STATED/IMPLIED OTHERWISE! That applies for all drabbles throughout all chapters.**

 **Second, they ARE NOT IN ANY KIND OF ORDER. Please keep this in mind.**

 **Third, NOT ALL OF THESE ARE ROMANCE! Although there will be _plenty_ of romantic moments between Spring and Chris, not all of them will be like this, especially not in the beginning!**

 **Fourth and finally (for now), Chris is my version of the FNaF 3 guard. I didn't get his design anywhere but my brain (you can even validate this by looking at the FNaF rp forum I'm a part of, if you feel the need to). The only reason I have him listed as an OC is because Fanfiction doesn't _have_ the FNaF 3 guard (nor Phone Dude) as a character -.- Good job, Fanfiction, good job.**

 **Without further ado, here is the first "chapter" of 50 Shades of Springguard~**

 **-Bexley**

* * *

 **1) Nice**

"I found a suit!"

Those words, at first, seemed like the nicest thing to happen to this company. Not that Chris cared. He was only doing this for his friend. And the money, of course.

 **2) Tap**

Death metal could be pretty loud when turned up to max volume, which is why Chris didn't hear the 'tap tap tap' against the enormous window in front of him. That didn't explain why his eyes didn't notice the grotesque robotic figure. No, that was the result of being locked in a video game, only occasionally flipping through the cameras. For some reason, he never saw that new suit his friend spoke of. Maybe he would've if he'd just looked up.

 **3) Roses**

There was very little activity throughout the week, so Chris was surprised when he came in for his second Monday to find a bouquet of wilted roses on his desk. At first, he accused Daniel, but the phone dude seemed honestly clueless towards the matter. Yet, there was no evidence of a break in. The only possible clue was a few bits of broken metal mixed in with them.

 **4) Gagged**

The first time _it_ had stood in the doorway, the smell of rotting corpse filled every inch of surrounding air, including the room Chris was situated in. So maybe his eyes and ears were distracted, but there was nothing entertaining his nose, or stomach, for that matter, when he began to gag.

"Holy hell, what is that _stench?!_ " Blue eyes darted around for its location. When they landed on a golden suit, a sparkle etched into them. It wasn't one of fear, but not one of excitement either, instead settling for some mix of the two.

"Hello?" The robot tried to say, but its voice box was completely damaged and instead came out as a string of broken static.

"What the hell?!" The raven-haired boy popped out his earbuds, pushing the wheeled seat away from the suit. He looked straight into its eerily human eyes- eyes filled with fear, pain.

"Please help…" the thing croaked, though still unable to convey the message.

Chris reached for his phone when the thing took a step inside, the stench becoming overwhelming and he started gagging once more.

"It hurts!" It screeched and the night watch had to cover his ears.

"Get away from me!" The twenty-some-year-old cried, hoisting up his chair in defense.

"Why are you afraid? I'm not trying to-"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"

Seeing the tears in this younger man's eyes brought a long lost sense of bloodlust spiraling back into the killer, yet at the same time, a little voice in the back of his head nagging at him that this was the first person he's truly seen in over thirty years, and if the trembling boy went missing, it might be that long until he finds another. At this rate, the guy was likely to die from a heart attack.

So, with a painful heart, Springtrap retreated back to the depths of his prison.

 **5) Noisy**

Fridays were always the noisiest. Whether it be his professors nagging about tests on Monday, his sister screaming about how awful her friends were, his father yelling to get a real job, or his mother banging around the bedroom, for Chris, Fridays were always the noisiest.

Now he got to add a terrifying sentient suit to the list.

The man had stupidly left his earbuds at home and was now forced to listen to the golden bunny jump around from room to room. At some point, he found a little voice box in the box of vintage crap and discovered that, if you play it into the tablet while viewing a camera, the sound echoes in that room. He also noted that the disturbing robot would chase after the sound if within range of hearing it, which meant he could keep that _thing_ and its noisiness away from the office.

That is, until he heard the most unholy thing to ever come out of any creature. The man was simply flipping through cameras when he stumbled upon a robot even more corrupt-looking than the thing that crept into the office. It let out a mangled scream mixed with static that lingered even after Chris closed out of the camera. When he finally got it to stop, the golden suit was nowhere to be found.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, then put down the electronic device to stare directly at a pair of human-like eyes.

Springtrap croaked in its demonic voice, "That wasn't very nice."

After that day, Fridays weren't so noisy anymore. Or any day, for that matter.

 **6) Cat**

Chris had never expected anything to sneak in, so it scared the crap out of him when he heard a crash from the next room over. Skinny fingers curled around the plastic flashlight and he left the office to investigate.

When he entered, several boxes lay scattered about, though only visible when the beam of light skimmed over them. Chris moved to pick them up- one, two, three-

"Meow!"

"OH MY FUCKING-!"

Down went the boxes, along with Chris's confidence. A little black cat perched itself on the table next to him.

"Meow?"

His voice wavered the teeniest bit as he said, "C-c'mon cat, shoo!"

When the cat jumped off its resting place and Chris took a few steps away, his mind was brought back to his early years when the family cat loved to torment him, and the claw mark that still scarred his arm.

"G-go away…!" He backed himself into a corner and let out a shriek. This was it. He was going to die by cat. His cyan eyes squeezed shut, leaving him oblivious to the large figure that darted just a few inches in front of him. Yes, it made noise, but not enough to snap Chris out of his frenzy before it went out of sight.

When Chris opened his eyes again, the terrifying feline was gone. Puzzled, the raven-haired man waved his flashlight around some, but it was truly gone.

He slid down the wall and curled his head into his knees for a few moments, then shakingly returned to the office.

Springtrap watched him from the giant window once Chris's earbuds had taken their rightful place in his ears and his eyes turned back to the screen.

At first, Spring wanted to squish the wretched feline right on the spot (how _dare_ it be competition for scaring!), but that might make a mess. After all, he was still a gentleman. He thought about stuffing it in one of those empty metal heads and leaving it to starve, but now, looking between the cat and the human, Spring decided it looked _too_ much like his...victim? plaything? obsession?...to kill. They shared the exact same hair and eye color, and, even though the cat _seemed_ rather brave for venturing into this place, it still squirmed under the suit's iron grip. Surely this was some sort of symbology, and so the creature would meet its fate when its human counterpart did.

But it should have a name, right?

Something went off in the office and Chris pulled out an earbud. He reached into his pocket for some flat object, tapping it twice and setting it down on the table.

"Hey!" another voice called. It sounded similar to the man that had first broken through Springtrap's thirty-year prison.

"Hey, Dan." Chris's voice still wobbled a little.

"How'd the shift go?"

"C-cat…"

Even with such a vague response, the other voice seemed to understand the cause of his friend's distress. "Oh...you need me to come get ya?"

"No..." The black-haired man took a breath in, then out. "I'm good."

"If ya need me, just give a ring, 'kay?"

" 'kay. See ya."

"See ya, Chris, dude."

He tapped the object again and started packing up.

Springtrap hopped off further into the building, gently holding onto the feline that had stopped squirming quite a while ago. It only scratched once or twice before playing dead.

"C'mon…" The golden suit coaxed. "I know you're still here." Since cats can't speak English anyway, it didn't matter how inaudible the suit was. It was gently placed back on its feet with a sigh from the suit, but, to Springtrap's surprise, it didn't flee. Its cyan eyes stared up at Spring with a fearful curiosity, legs posed to run at any sudden movement.

"Carla?" The stinky clunk of metal sat in front of the feline, who was still a bit weary.

"No? How about Daisy?"

It gave no response.

"Are you even a girl?"

The cat made a face almost similar to one of offense.

"Hmm…" Springtrap's memory card whirled into action, bringing back the conversation overheard earlier. " _See ya, Chris, dude."_

Of course! Why wasn't it obvious? If the cat was going to represent that man, then they had to have the same name!

"Chris?"

The feline's hind legs squat to a sitting position. It purred once deeming the rusted suit not a threat.

Springtrap almost smiled. Almost.

"Alright, Chris." The suit's hand stroked over black fur for a little, getting a feel for the right amount of pressure. Thankfully, the black creature was rather forgiving.

Weeks later, Springtrap still hadn't sprung. Every time death was close for unsuspecting Chris, the memory card would remind Spring of that cat and he'd find himself hopping back to make sure it was still okay.


	2. 7-9

**1)** **NONE OF THESE TAKE PLACE IN THE SAME UNIVERSE UNLESS STATED/IMPLIED OTHERWISE.**

 **2) THEY ARE NOT IN ANY KIND OF ORDER.**

 **3) Not all of these are romance. Don't worry, there will be plenty of romantic moments between the two, but there will also be friendship moments, as well as some...others, especially in the beginning. I think you know what I mean.**

 **5) Chris is MY version of the FNaF 3 guard, and Mason is MY version of Purple Guy. Daniel is my Phone Dude :) You heard it here first!**

* * *

 **7) Blunder**

It was his blunder that brought him here, after all. No blaming Daniel for making him take the night shift, no blaming his doctors for insisting there was nothing wrong despite the hallucinations he always saw in that place; it was his fault.

His fault for no longer feeling fear, too.

The withered, disgusting suit that wandered into the office on a nightly basis? No fear. Not after the first two nights, that is. And maybe that was his mistake- trusting a demonic bunny haunted by a psychopath not to attack unprovoked.

Maybe if he hadn't let his guard down, Daniel wouldn't have to be greeted by the sight of a mangled corpse and sobbing rabbit. After all, it wasn't even his blunder.

 **8) Cough**

"You sure you're okay, dude?"

Chris bit his lip. Today must've been pretty productive for his friend if the cleared away space and semi-neatly organized office held any significance. "I'm fine! It's just a-" He paused, as if to emphasize his words with the same action. "-cough."

"Right...If it gets too bad, I got some medicine somewhere, maybe the backroom. I think cough med's one of 'em...well, gotta go. Call me if ya need anything. See ya!"

A click denoted the silence of that voice, and Chris kicked his feet up on the desk, only to bring them back down when his lungs decided to hack.

" _This is gonna be one hell of a night,"_ he thought, plugging in his earbuds.

A few hours passed with that robot wandering the halls and a few more coughing fits, though the man's stomach didn't seem to appreciate being here. When an error occurred in the ventilation, he gagged to the point that a bit of bile entered his mouth and he raced to the bathroom.

There was noise in the office, but vomit out of your mouth can get a bit distracting.

When Chris returned, he was dumbstruck to find a glass of water and three different medicine bottles on the desk. Daniel had mentioned bringing in food, drinks, and just today, medicine, but that didn't explain why it had magickally appeared on his desk. To further things, there was no sign of anything putting it there. That is, except for the smell of rotting corpse.

 **9) Tender**

Springtrap had nearly forgotten how tender human flesh could be. After all these years, the only contact he had was with his own body, which, to put simply, could take a bit of damage.

So when he finally got the man to trust him, what was the first thing he did?

Grab his hand and squeeze, causing several cracking sounds and a scream.

"I-I'm sorry!" he tried to exclaim, but the voice box was so badly damaged that it didn't seem to matter what he said, all the words came out as gargle.

"I-it's okay!" the man yelled, pulling out his phone. "I'm just gonna-!"

A little while later, the blonde dude that had first found Springtrap drove off with Chris in his backseat, and the golden suit feared he wouldn't return.

And yet, a week later, he did. Chris's hand was wrapped up in white, but otherwise seemed fine.

"You didn't mean it," Chris said when the robot gave him a questioning look from the doorway. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have an arm."

Spring actually did smile at that. The one time he honestly wasn't trying to hurt someone but did, and the guy...forgave him?

Human skin may be tender, but not as tender as a heart when you remove the calluses.

* * *

 **Wow, this update is a lot shorter than the last one. I expect them to be about this length. Things can change, but if I had to guess, I'd say the chapters will be a little less than a thousand words each.**

 **Thank you all for reading! I had four follows after only the first upload and that's absolutely amazing! Thank you all so much! ^D^**

 _ **Guest number one -**_ **You'll get to see some phantoms soon, don't worry... :)**

 **-Bexley**


	3. 10-11

**So apparently a drabble is supposed to be less than a hundred words but oh well.**

* * *

 **10) Kickass**

Neither Chris nor Daniel had been alive when any of the Fazbear restaurants had been open. Even so, as teens, they found the lore of the place exhilarating. Five kids go missing? Big whoop. Five kids go missing and turn up haunting the mascots like puppeteers? Now _that_ was exciting! Anything to do with the company they'd eat up without a second thought.

The older they grew, the more their interest in mysteries diminished. At some point, the darker-haired one had stopped believing in an afterlife at all. Only Daniel held enough enthusiasm for it to be recharged upon the discovery of one of the old abandoned buildings.

Chris really only agreed because of the money Daniel promised they'd split, plus the latter would just do it by himself, both day and night shift, if he had to. Not doing this was not an option.

Then there came the second day, the run in with the suit, and a desperate attempt to get the thing away. Even if he no longer believed the legends to be true, the thought of being stuffed into one of those _things_ was enough to send him into full-on panic. That _thing_ made several broken noises before retreating with a...sad expression? No, that must've just been his imagination. Wouldn't be the first thing he's hallucinated that night.

It wasn't until Wednesday of the next week that activity stirred up. At about three A.M., the unlocked doors of Fazbear Frights opened and in crept two hooded figures, completely unnoticed by the night watch until they stuck a blade to his throat.

"Hey, Chris," the one with the red hood said, applying just enough pressure to leave a white mark.

"Don't scream," the one in brown commanded, "or it might be cut short."

The bladed one chuckled. "Might."

Chris was paralyzed with fear, too petrified to even bother.

"Now you're probably wondering why we're here," Brownie guessed by the night watch's unmoving body language. "I'll tell you. I saw you chattin' up my sister the other day-"

Red pushed the blade just the teeniest bit harder. A little trickle of crimson ran down from the point. "My _girlfriend_!"

"Hold on, Red, I'm getting there."

The black-haired boy knew where this was going, but feared their "gift" would be worse if he said he didn't like girls.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself? Not too loud, now."

Chris glanced down at his lap, where the tablet was situated. It showed the game room, a golden bunny suit searching through the rubbage.

"Sp-Spring!" Chris called, eyes still locked on the tablet.

"Spring?" The two attackers exchanged a look of confusion. "Who the hell is-"

They didn't have time to finish when Springtrap karate-chopped through the gigantic window, glass shattering in the most kick-ass style possible.

In the scramble to avoid broken glass, Red's knife clattered to the floor.

A string of distorted noises echoed from its mouth as a golden paw reached for Red's neck.

"W-wait!" the man screamed. "What are you-?!"

The pressure increased slowly, and Red let out a long scream.

Brownie jumped up and tried to pry the rabbit off, but only in vain when he, too, was snatched by the neck.

"Spring, stop!" The rabbit dropped them to the ground, despite his urge to press down harder. Why? Why did he listen to this boy? Why did he feel such a strong need to protect him, stronger than the one to kill?

The two hooded figures fled as soon as they touched the ground. Chris rose from his spot to envelop his savior in grateful arms.

Spring looked at him wearily. Was this supposed to be a hug? Didn't the metal and wires hurt? Why was this guy hugging him in the first place?

"Thanks." Gratitude filled every inch of Chris's sparkling cyan eyes, even if the method of saving had been a bit more violent than he would have liked.

Chris turned back to the place of Spring's stunning entrance, however, and muttered, "Gotta fix this in two hours..."

 **11) Serious**

"This...this can't be happening. You're serious?"

Well, technically the kids weren't in the animatronics when they forced the purple man in his tomb, but Chris didn't need to know that. "Yes, I'm being absolutely serious."

This changed everything. At the very least, it meant there was an afterlife. But what if it was a trick? So many times had Chris believed without questioning, only leading him to play victim for, at the very least, some stupid prank (he didn't want to think about at worst). Still, what other explanation could there be for the purple ghost to hover right in front of him?

"So the suit's not sentient?"

"No," the ghost replied, recoiling back into the suit. He managed to let out before it flickered to life, "That would be me."

Chris stared right into those violet eyes. "What's your name?"

"Name?" The ghost popped back out, a trail of energy still swirling into the bunny.

"Yeah...like, what should I call you?"

He thought for a moment. A name is a piece of the past, and he already gave away an important (not to mention sensitive) part of his past. Could one be traced by name and cause of death alone?

Then Mason looked to the golden suit he haunted and got an idea.

"Please, call me Springtrap."

"Springtrap? That's your name?"

"Not my birth given one, but that's all apart of the past now, yes?"


	4. 12-14

**It's 23 at night and I'm tired af for give me for any spelling/grammar errors I may have overlooked.**

 **Okay I give up with consistent word count.**

 **Also, for those of you following I'm a Glass Child,** **PlushiePhone-x** **got Jeremy's p.o.v. up and running, titled "I Have a Glass Jaw". Go check it out.**

* * *

 **12) Neglect**

When Mason finally found out how to leave the suit, his heart was shattered. He hadn't "moved on" or anything like that, just learned how to detach from his tomb. He insists it be the result of the close bond formed with Chris over the past few weeks, though the latter still wasn't quite sure.

None the less, Mason floated above his obsession's head as they entered the living's home. If you could call it a home, that is. The second Chris had walked in the door, yelling could be heard throughout the house. It wasn't specifically directed to him, though his name did come up a few times.

What got Mason was that no one even acknowledged the alive one had arrived. Back when he was living with his parents, the adults would treat him like a god, but Chris didn't even go noticed.

It was like that for the rest of the day.

Late evening, when the younger was preparing for his shift, Mason finally decide to confront him on the matter.

"Is it always like this?"

"Pretty much." The fact that Chris was acting as though it was nothing shocked the dead man even more. Has this been similar to the lives of the children he murdered? If so, wasn't he doing them a favor, to put them out of their misery?

Obviously not, since they still haunted the place. But that wasn't the matter at hand.

"Chris, aren't you old enough to move out?"

The night watch turned his attention to the purple ghost while lacing up the shoestrings. "Yeah, but I wanna get through college first. One debt at a time, y'know?"

"Of course." He didn't know at all, but that was besides the point. It was times like these that Mason desperately wished he were still living so he could offer the man a place to stay. After all, it was their bond that freed him from that mummy. It was the least he could do...except that he couldn't.

And that's what the afterlife would be like, right? Just a whole lot of 'couldn't's.

 **13) Sway(ing)**

Upon the request of a certain golden rabbit, Chris had brought a portable speaker with him.

"Did you get the song I wanted?" Mason asked when Chris had entered the building.

"Yeah." The younger stared at his dead friend with blank cyan eyes, almost as if coaxing him to explain why.

"You'll see."

The two made their way to the office, where the usual bunny suit lay slumped in a corner. Ever since Mason had learned to move without it, that's where it normally stayed. Unless Chris had a headache. The purple guy couldn't stand complaints resulting from his companion's increased irritability and sense of smell.

Mason shifted to a more gentlemanly stance, particularly one involving legs. "Would you mind playing the song?"

The night guard plugged his phone into the speaker and pressed a few buttons. A waltz filled the room shortly after.

The purple ghost held out his hand. "Christopher Schmidt, may I have this dance?"

"Dance?" The guard took a step back. "You didn't say about dancing."

Mason frowned. This wasn't how he'd imagined it would go. "What's wrong?"

"I can't dance. Not in front of people."

The ghost chuckled. "I think you're forgetting that I'm not a person."

"I still don't know the song."

When Chris made no move to take his companion's hand, the latter sighed. "I doubt I'd know any other songs you own."

"…" It should've been obvious, but the guard didn't even take that into consideration. Even so, Mason let it slide.

"Fine, what song do _you_ want?"

A few more taps on the screen and a more modern tune filled the room. Not typically one of Mason's choosing, but he was hooked in seconds.

It started off with a deep, low, metal-sounding drum solo before quickly moving into words, the singer claiming some unknown person being referenced was an absolute mess and didn't even think they've done anything wrong by being so lost in their own confidence. It continued, claiming they were unstoppable, and saying to look for something alone...look for what? What was it they did that was so wrong?

"What...what song is this?"

Chris smiled at his companion's evident trance. "It's one of my favorites."

The ghost's violet eyes focused just beyond his obsession's shoulder. His mind began to drift to the same place it would while still trapped in his prison. " _What I was doing...It was wrong...But why?"_

He was snapped back to reality, however, at the sound of the second chorus and Chris's swaying hips.

"Hm?" He watched as the guard stretched out a leg and spun thrice around on the other heel.

Chris immediately stopped on his fourth turn and blushed under his companion's stare. "...You weren't paying attention..."

"My, you have such beautifully stunning movements. Why, your motions remind me of those by the graceful swan, yet delicate, like a dove."

"Eh…?" The night guard took a step back, though the pink tint on his cheeks turned to a deeper shade of red.

Mason took a glance to the side before refocusing his attention. "I meant to say that your dancing is impeccable and absolutely adoring to myself."

Cyan eyes skimmed over the ghost as he took another step back. What the hell? Was this his version of flirting?

"What I'm trying to say is-"

"You're hitting on me?"

Silence poured into the room, even to the point of overpowering the song, which had changed to one of a criminal couple.

"I suppose you could phrase it that way," Mason finally responded as the song came to a line of death doing its pair apart.

By now the ghost had diverted its attention upward to some unknown point above them. Odd, seeing as he had been much smoother in life. Had being locked up for so long left him rusty with his social skills? Did being dead make it harder to cover your true emotions, or was it something about this boy in particular?

"Why?"

Why? What did he mean by "why"? Did there have to be a reason why the ghost had fallen for him?

Chris remained silent as he waited for an answer from the ghost, whose violet eyes moved back to the boy's own blue. "Does there need to be a reason for you to catch my attention?"

" _...How?_ "

"How? How did you catch my attention?"

A slight nod was Chris's reply and the guard continued to hold their connection with his eyes.

"You returned here even after seeing that wretched tomb."

That wretched tomb- the Springtrap body. Mason had already explained that that's where his body lay rotting. The college boy had offered to give it a proper burial, but the ghost insisted not to waste the effort.

"Daniel would've come back."

"Who else would've? Don't tell me many people would have stayed with a terrifying robotic rabbit on the loose."

There's- no, not him. What about- well, no. How about- no, she'd run screaming.

After a few moments of silence as a reply, Mason continued. "See? Very few would be so brave as to return. You appear to be one of those few. That's only one reason why I find interest in you."

"…" The redness spread over Chris's face to emphasize his lack of words.

Mason smirked. It seems as though the cat had cornered the mouse, and now all that's left to do is pounce.

"I'll ask you again." A purple hand extended toward the fleshy, badge-wearing chest. "Christopher Schmidt, may I have this dance?"

As if on cue, a more electronic swing came through the speakers. Christopher hesitated for a moment before grabbing hold of the outstretched arm.

"Are you ready?" asked Mason. He didn't want to start with his partner unprepared.

 **14) Comedian (continued from #13)**

Daniel placed the keys back in their rightful place (his pocket) and swung open the door. It was barely six a.m., but he'd accidentally left his phone in the office and needed to retrieve it. What better time than at the end of his friend's shift?

It was even better, however, when he got to walk in to the sight of Chris passed out in the office chair with a purple figure hovering above him.

"Guess all those night hours finally took a toll on him, huh?"

Mason looked up to Daniel, who was standing in the door frame. "Close, but not quite."

It wasn't until a smirk spread across the blonde's lips did Mason realize the gravity of his implication. "Didn't know ghost could mess around like that, man!"

To everyone's surprise, it wasn't Mason, but Chris that popped his cyan eyes open and stared right into Daniel's brown, a playful anger displayed on his face. "You're a lot of things, Dan, but a comedian isn't one of them."

* * *

 **A certain puppet will make a cameo next chapter, promise.**


	5. 15-16

**I forgot to post this last night I'm so sorry.**

 **(trying to keep a schedule here)**

 **Once I run out of stuff I have already up on Google Docs...well, my schedule might become less schedule-y and more, "Hey I actually finished something! Let's upload!"**

 **Or something like that.**

 **Also, doing a FNaF 3 speedpaint, with a cameo from Chris and Spring and (maybe) Mason. Part one is Chris. I have it up here on YouTube:** **watch?v=tElmBhugHuI &feature= **

* * *

**15) Shadow boxing**

Mason was never one for hand-to-hand combat. He'd much rather talk his way out of a situation than throw a few punches. However, when someone he loved was at risk, nothing stopped the gloves from coming off.

So when that kid- that _damn_ puppet- decided to shove its ugly mask right in Chris's face, things got personal.

Not that things weren't already. They'd be personal from the moment he first ran over that thing. That didn't mean Chris could get involved. Revenge was understandable, but the night guard wasn't a part of it.

" _He will kill you,"_ the puppet echoed into the human's mind.

"...?"

" _If you don't leave, he will kill you."_

Chris stared back into the thing's cold, empty eyes. There wasn't much elsewhere to look considering how close it was. "Who?"

" _The golden rabbit seems to be fine,_

 _But I'm warning you now, your life's on the line."_

"W-what?" He tried to scoot the chair back, but only ended up hitting the wall.

" _The spirit inside had killed us all,_

 _And if you don't leave soon, his next victim will fall."_

"Killed us all...?"

He didn't have time to finish before the stench of rotting corpse filled the air, and a few seconds later, the puppet was ripped off of him, flung to the other side of the room.

Chris watched the spot Marionette had hit. Even after the puppet had left it, two shadows remained, wildly throwing punches at each other.

"Stop!" Chris yelled. He didn't want another case of shadow boxing.

 **16) Incredible**

Isn't it incredible how delicate the human skeleton can be? How easily skin can tear and organs rip, yet still sustain a miniscule amount of life to their host?

Mason's thinking that now, though surprisingly, not in a good way. Normally this would be the kind of thing he reveled in, seeing other people on the verge of death, but not with Chris. It'd be be great to have him dead (then they could be together as spirits instead of barely able to even touch each other), but this wasn't death. It was hanging on by a thread, not to mention absolutely agonizing pain. He'd been there before. Not fun.

Everytime he had the suit powered on, there was a constant battle between interacting with his beloved human and stuffing the "endoskeleton" in a suit. It'd usually been quite easy to keep the suit's instincts at bay, but something had distracted him and the damn rabbit got its grabby mits on the boy before he had a chance to snap out of his trance.

Now Chris was left holding onto his life by a mere thread. If that wasn't enough, the ghost knew he wasn't going to give life up that easily. If Mason were to finish the job, there was no doubt the guard would be pissed. He never mentioned the instincts of the suit to him. Chris would probably assume his death was the ghost's fault (which wouldn't be entirely false, mind you). However, Mason couldn't just leave the guard as he was…

With a heavy sigh, the purple man squeezed Chris's tomb just hard enough to hear a couple snaps. He'd certainly have much explaining to do once the younger had awoken.


	6. 17-18

**Oh god I'm way behind on this.**

 **Sorry I got really into animations lately .3. Been working on a lotta Miku Miku Dance stuff.**

 **Oh well.**

* * *

 **17) Mundane**

"Thirty years."

The night guard stared at his floating friend with widened eyes, searching for signs that his answer was a lie. Springtrap had been in there for _thirty years?_

"Must've been..." He tried to think of the perfect word for it, but Chris was never one for words. "...mundane."

"Oh, mundane is not even reaching the tip of the iceberg."

 **18) Guide**

Two pairs of blue eyes stared at each other, the smaller set containing curiosity and the larger filled with absolute terror. A dark hand reached forward.

"G-good k-kitty…" the human stuttered. How many cats were going to break in?! ...Or was this the same one from before?

One of its fuzzy paws came up to meet his hand which he instantly withdrew and took a few more steps back.

Chris continued his horrified gaze, secretly wishing for it to leave.

Of course it didn't listen, and once it was close enough to rub his leg, Chris screamed.

Seconds later, a certain golden rabbit came busting through the door frame. Its realistic eyes scanned over the room for any threats and, upon seeing only a mere cat, the ghost inside laughed.

"Chris, it's only a cat."

"That'll kill me!"

During their word exchange, said cat had wandered up to the desk, leaped on top of it and rubbed its midnight fur against the guard's shoulder, causing Mason to chuckle. "See? It only wants to be friends. Why don't I acquaint you two?"

The guard shivered in response.

"Chris," Mason gestured toward his human obsession, the to the feline. "Meet Chris."

When the feline purred at its name, human Chris relaxed, though only for a moment. "You named a cat after me?"

"Have you ever heard of a spirit guardian?"

Oh yeah, he's heard of them. They're those phony ghost animals that follow you around everywhere and tell you what to do. He nodded.

"I believe I have found yours."

His? His what? Fake magick pet? Even so, the Atheist raised an eyebrow and shifted away from the feline to coax out an explanation.

Mason never got there. As soon as the purple ghost had opened his mouth, Chris-the-cat placed a paw on its human's shoulder, causing him to jump a mile toward the ghost.

"Really," Mason said, "there's no need for you to be afraid." The older promptly shook his companion off of him and let the boy fall to the floor. The cat didn't seem to appreciate seeing (who it deemed as) its master be thrown so harshly to the ground. It even went so far as to hiss.

Mason's purple expression softened at seeing his obsession sprawled out on the floor. he knelt down to the boy's side and held out his hand. "Oh dear. I do agree with your guardian; that was awfully ungentlemanly of me."

After a moment's hesitation, Chris took the outstretched offer and was yanked to his feet….and then some. He ended up being pulled into the still-kneeling ghost's chest, who strained just to make that physically possible.

Needless to say, the guard blushed at such contact, and Mason's cheeks weren't necessarily the same color they once were either.

The duo stayed in that manner for a good minute until the ghost found himself unable to sustain such physical contact and ended up dropping Chris to the floor.

"Well," the ghost spoke after recovering from initial shock, "this is certainly a setback." He sat down next to his companion, placing an arm around him as the latter's spirit guide hopped down in front of the two. The companion recoiled slightly at such furry contact. However, when reassured by the purple arm, he slowly reached his own hand out to stroke Chris-Kitty's back.

It purred contently under the flesh.


	7. 19-22

**19)Submerge**

The black-haired adult threw off his covers in panic, images of worn-down robots still jumping in his mind. His lungs began to slow down only when the non-threatening surroundings of his room soaked in.

Only, it wasn't _just_ his room. The blonde dude that had helped him at the beginning of _every_ night he spent in that disturbing horror attraction was there, brown eyes shot open from the moment Chris had stirred.

"Dude! It's okay! Calm down." Two arms wrapped around Chris's waist and his own were brought down to meet Daniel's. He rested his head into the crook of Phone Dude's neck with a sigh.

A purple mass of energy swirled just outside the window, unknown to either of the two in bed. Its hands trailed down the glass without a sound. Two white holes that could pass as eyes were fixed downward while the living pair continued on with their displays of affection.

" _I don't understand,"_ the ghost thought as he turned his head away. " _Why do I feel such things toward this male? Love, protection…"_ He took a quick glance back at the two. " _...Sorrow…_

" _I just can't comprehend why such emotions are present. Nothing was wrong before, and yet, now I can't stop thinking about what I've done...or him…"_

The balloon child was supposed to be the one who had drowned, not Mason. No, he died in a springlock, then once more in a fire. Never had he drowned.

Yet, now he found himself submerged in a plethora of raw emotions that had been locked away for so long, and they were pulling him down, down, sinking…

When the two living pairs of lips met, Mason practically felt himself slipping under. The familiar urge to gut someone returned, but it was fueled by jealousy and overpowered loss. The killer spun around, then floated back to his broken tomb.

 **20)Sidekick**

They were like crime fighters- Daniel and Chris, Sunshine and his sidekick. One took the day shift, one took the night. One went left, the other went right. Two near opposites, yet they always had each others' backs. They'd been through thick and thin together; nothing could tear apart the bonds of Daniel and his best friend.

...Except one.

That purple mist...Chris was fine until it came into view. How...what did it do? What has it done to his sidekick?!

...Maybe the appropriate term is 'partner in crime.'

 **21)Hip**

A hand outstretched over Spring's neck, searching for a loose bolt or stray wire. The mulatto arm drew back, only to quickly return, now holding a wrench that spun around one of the nuts.

"Daniel'd be better," was Chris's statement as he moved onto Spring's shoulder.

The rabbit attempted a reply, only to emit a long string of gargle.

Chris nodded to the noise. "Voice box."

The ghost sighed inside his tomb. He wanted to tell his companion that Daniel was not trusted and the only person he'd allow to get that close to his rotting body was the night guard, but that would involve leaving said body, which needed to remain propped up at the moment…

Said night guard's hand then glided down well past the ghost's declared "safe zone." Even though his original body was all but motionless, Mason could recall the company instructing him to rub down there when one of the old bots went haywire. There was supposed to be a spot that would cause the animatronic enough sensory input to reboot. Some genius decided to put it in the crouch.

Mason, being the lucky one to possess such a springlock, could also feel this input. The closest human feeling he could equate it to was...well…

A string of low-pitched gargle came out as response, causing the night guard to jump back suddenly. He raised his hands up in surrender.

Mason only sighed and turned to Chris with weary eyes. "It is not of your worry," the man tried to say, but Spring's voice box did not like to agree.

With wide eyes, Christopher brought his hands back down to his sides. No, he didn't understand what Spring had been trying to convey, but the guard was slowly getting used to his metallic tone of voice.

"..." Lifting up his eyebrows after a few quick blinks was essentially Chris's way of saying 'WTF?'

And, in response, Spring let out a gargled sigh. All he could do was shake his head.

They stood there like that for a moment, neither really sure what to say. On one hand, the hip needed repaired (and pretty badly). On the other, there was no way Mason could tell him how to without having the suit slump over, which it really couldn't do if it was going to be worked on.

A small sigh escaped the younger's lips as his hands reached for Springtrap's neck. When the latter had given him a rather odd look, the former just shrugged.

"Your body's gotta come out sooner or later." And, sure enough, if the lower half couldn't be worked on, it was going to have to out the top.

 **22)Collared**

A sparkle shone in Chris's cyan eyes as the night watch let out a small chuckle. When Springtrap had glanced over with a more than confused expression, Chris only shrugged. "Guess you have a son."

He was referring to the plush rabbit currently situated in Daniel's arms. There were three days until opening and Fazbear Frights needed to look its absolute best for the big day...er, night. Its three workers- the day guard, the night guard, and the spring body animatronic- were gathered in the office where Daniel had just unloaded a butt-ton of boxes for them to dig through

About halfway through, the phone dude had pulled out a torn-up, musty rabbit with pointed teeth and even a rusted metal endoskeleton.

"Dude!" He exclaimed when first examining it over. "This used to be my brother's! I think he called it a...a Plushtrap?"

Chris's eyes caught its sight, too, and hence letting out the chuckle.

Mason's mouth, however, gaped open slightly at the very thought. "That, unfortunately, is not my son," he wanted to retort, but Daniel thought it would be more "authentic" if the voice box were to be left unaltered, and so, once more, the two guards were greeted with static.

"I think he agrees!" the phone dude exclaimed, causing Chris to roll his eyes. He wasn't really sure if Daniel was joking or serious- probably a mix of both- but anyone that's spent time with the spring body animatronic could tell by its tone of voice that that was not the case at all. Either way, it was still funny to watch Mason get frustrated with his lack of ability to correct the miscommunication.

Throughout this, Plushtrap had simply watched, its beady eyes following each of the three figures in the room. When the phone dude outstretched his arms to hand the plush to the torn animatronic (careful not to let any loose threads catch on Spring's broken metal), Plushtrap simply allowed himself to be limply handed over.

Springtrap gave the stuffed toy a look of curiosity, slight repulsion, but mostly uncaring. After all, it was just a toy.

That night, while the three (two exhausted humans and the third that had set Plush on the desk shortly after receiving him) continued to pull off some of the finishing touches, some small sounds echoed through the air of the office. They hadn't been heard again until about thirty minutes later, where by that time, Chris was perched in the office chair- as usual past midnight- and Daniel lay next to him, head rested on the guy's shoulder (Spring's reason- _only_ reason- for not snapping the latter's neck, which they had to explain to him, was that they were best friends and had been doing such things long before Fazbear Frights. This had made Spring...less jealous).

In fact, the animatronic was actually out and about, moving around objects that seemed just slightly out of place. He was the only one fully awake, for obvious reasons, and couldn't possibly have seen the little plush rabbit stand up from its spot on the desk, glance over at the two sleeping boys and proceed to ask in a childish voice, "Where's Daddy?"

For a moment, the only (barely) conscious of the two blinked, tired mind still trying to process what all was occurring. In fact, everything seemed perfectly normal until Plushtrap lept out towards the guard's face- teeth bared- that Chris's eyes widened and he froze with fear. Well, until Plush ended up knawing on his coat pocket. That was pretty cute.

Chris wearily lifted up the small toy so that their eyes were at level with each other. Said toy reached out its arms to bop Chris on the nose. It didn't hurt, but there was certainly a bit more weight than the guard had originally expected.

With a yawn, the night guard gave his daytime counterpart a small shake, causing said man to flutter open his deep brown eyes.

"Wassup?"

As if to say, "look at this," Chris held the plush in front of his friend as it squirmed about, trying to wrangle its way out of the grip.

Once Daniel's brain had awoken itself well enough to comprehend the oddity of the situation, the man blinked a few times. His conscious mind was trying to determine whether or not Plush's behavior was a part of a dream and it took Dan a moment longer than usual to plaster an awe-filled smile unto his face. "Dude! That's awesome!"

Plushtrap attempted to nip at the paler man as he was transferred from one pair of hands to the next.

The two sets of eyes glanced between each other as the cyan ones shone with interest. " _Springtrap moves through possession. Does that mean…?"_

Chris didn't have time to ask. He blinked a few times while watching his friend race out the door, likely to find Plushtrap's "Daddy." However, the night guard started to become suspicious when five minutes went by without a sound. Chris pulled out his phone, allowing five minutes to turn to ten, ten to twenty, twenty to half-an-hour. By that point, the cameras alerted him to a crash in the "gift shop." With a raise of his eyebrow, Chris left to investigate.

The guard wasn't entirely sure what he saw, to be honest. One now wide awake man was scrambling around after his brother's plush, which looked quite a bit like an over-energetic puppy as it scurried about, knocking over box after box, of which Spring had to reset in their proper places.

A small chuckle came from the guard as his eyes followed the high speed chase around the party room. It only stopped once Plush had gone fast enough to catch up with the tail end of their line, Springtrap. He somehow managed to latch onto Springtrap's leg and was promptly lifted off of it by said spring body.

"Daddy!" Plushtrap cried, to which the "dad" rolled his eyes.

That's when Christopher noticed something black hanging around the plush's neck. "A collar?"

"Oh yeah," Dan replied after catching his breath, "That's, like, for his leash."

* * *

 **I'm going to try to do one "drabble" at a time (like in my FNaF 4 - 31 Days of Winter). In theory, that would create longer chapters and more inspiration. In actuality...I can only hope.**


	8. 23

**23)Wallet**

It started when Chris had heard a small bit of laughter. This wasn't normal laughter, though. Sounds of demonic gargles echoed through the office, causing Christopher to jump out of his seat. It sounded more like someone had drowned and ripped their voice box out than a little boy, which was odd considering that that was what stood directly in front of him. Well, a boy that looked like he'd been through Hell and back.

"Hi?" the child said. Chris could practically hear the nails on chalkboard.

Said guard nodded in greeting. He was still a bit shaken at how terrifying the phantom both looked and sounded, but at least the thing didn't seem to be attacking. Only...what was that in its hand?

The guard's own hand shot down to his pocket after seeing the balloon phantom hold a small pouch of black leather. What Chris's hand was met with was...nothing.

"Give me back my wallet!"

The child, however, whether or not it could understand, simply continued to giggle.

Chris covered his ears. No, no, no! This was only day two of work and he was already hallucinating. Schizophrenia can be genetic, sure, but his father's...it was only minor, and brought on by bipolar at that! The guard expected something to come from working at a _haunted house_ , but not so early! To top it off, the longer the child stood there and laughed, the louder the sirens around them got.

These sirens seemed to attract the nearby attention of a certain spring body animatronic, who decided to meander over toward the source out of curiosity. He peered inside the window, eyes widening at the sight of another human. Why, he hadn't seen another human in so long! Surely this one could...help him? Well, it was worth a shot, at least.

When he stepped into the room, the first thing Springtrap noticed was that the ghost child had stopped giggling and was now attempting to comfort the man in his scratchy, barely understandable voice, however was providing little success with such.

Springtrap resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That child was the only one that didn't hate his guts and was the only one who visited his prison throughout all those years. That child was at least understood by Springtrap to be not as much of a brat as most people assumed.

And so, Spring found himself gently shooing the child away as he himself bent down to the guard's level. Said guard was by that point scrunched into a ball with his head in his hands and music turned up to max volume. He didn't want to look up; he wanted the flashing lights to die down and the air to stop being so damn heavy.

With a small sigh, Springtrap glanced around the room. Fazbear security offices usually held some sort of control panel in case of emergencies, and this building looked so worn-down that the panel to conceal it had probably broken off completely. Looking toward the wall beside the office chair, it seemed to prove the dead man right. The ghost guided his suit over to said area and skimmed over the control's options.

Video: Fully operational

Audio: Error

Ventilation: Error

Reset all

The latter seemed like the best reset option, which a metal hand stretched out towards and pressed. It retreated back down to the animatronic's side before hesitantly reaching out toward the still-shaking night guard.

Balloon Boy by that point had dropped the wallet on the ground in front of the guard. He then backed away to give Chris some space and could be seen sitting on top of the office desk, a large frown sprawled across his face. "I'm sorry," his gargled voice said, while staring down shamefully.

Spring only waved his hand. "I'll take care of it." Though the living didn't understand him, the dead certainly could and didn't hesitate to follow orders when instructed to leave the room.

"Excuse me?" the remaining ghost then tried to ask but only ended up emitting static. This caused Chris to jump up and stare at the giant suit, body paralyzed with fear.

The ghost sighed. He knew what it felt like to be in charge of killer robots and, though the circumstances were quite different, the fear seemed to be about the same. Let's see… What was it that Mason used to do when his youngest cried at the sight of Fazbear's?

Carefully, the spring body animatronic wrapped his broken arms around Christopher to hold them barely close enough to touch. At first, Chris jumped, but the animatronic held still, no move to advance or retreat. He then relaxed a bit into the metal arms, somehow avoiding the broken pieces as his muscles untightened.

They stayed that way for a few moments as Chris's breathing slowed. What few bits of fur were left on Springtrap seemed to help comfort the boy, at least, despite the overwhelming stench of a decaying corpse accompanying it.

Soon, however, the guard began to squirm, and Springtrap released his grip. He looked over Chris with a hint of pity as the guard's eyes sparkled in just the smallest bit of fear. The former began to speak, but stopped upon seeing the latter tense once more. Spring simply rested his hand on Chris's shoulder…

...right before the clock struck six.

* * *

 **Well that was a bit anti-climatic ._.**

 **By the way, if any of you were wondering, this story and my 31 Days of Winter are pretty much in the same timeline (as far as family structure is concerned, anyway), so...**

 **...well now it just got awkward.**


End file.
